s--let
us go by the quiet streets, eh? We have walked the pavement of some
queer towns in our day, you and I. The typical Englishman, so dense,
so silent, so unobservant--who sees nothing and knows nothing and never
laughs, but is himself the laughing-stock of all the Latin races and the
piece de resistance of their comic papers. And I, at your service,
the typical Frenchman; all shrugs and gesticulations and mustache--of
politeness that is so insincere--of a heart that is so unstable. Ah!
these national characteristics of comic journalism--how the stupid world
trips over them on to its vulgar face!"

As he spoke he was hurrying Cartoner along, ever quicker and quicker,
with a haste that must have been unconscious, as it certainly was
unnatural to one who found a thousand trifles to interest him in the
streets whenever he walked there.

Cartoner made no answer, and his companion expected none. They were in
a narrow street now--between the backs of high houses--and had left the
life and traffic of frequented thoroughfares behind them. Deulin turned
once and looked over his shoulder. They were alone in the street. He
released Cartoner's arm, through which he had slipped his left hand in
an effusive French way. He was fingering his stick with his right hand
in an odd manner, and walked with his head half turned, as if listening
for footsteps behind him. Suddenly he swung round on his heels, facing
the direction from which they had just come.

Two men were racing up the street, making but little noise on the
pavement.

"Any coming from the other side?" asked Deulin.

"No."

"In the doorway," whispered the Frenchman. He was very quick and quite
steady. And there is nothing more dangerous on earth than a steady
Frenchman, who fights with his brain as well as his arm. Deulin was
pushing his companion back with his left hand into a shallow
doorway that had the air of being little used. The long blade of
his sword-stick, no thicker at the hilt than the blade of a sailor's
sheath-knife, and narrowing to nothing at the point, glittered in the
moonlight.

"Here," he said, and thrust the empty stick into Cartoner's hand. "But
you need not use it. There are only two. Ah! Ah!"

With a sharp little cry of delight he stepped out into the moonlight,
and so quick were his movements in the next moments that the eye could
scarcely follow them. Those who have seen a panther in liberty know
there is nothing so graceful, so quick, s